


Warm in Winter

by Hexcraft



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Christmas, Lingerie, M/M, Massage, lotion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 03:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1413001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexcraft/pseuds/Hexcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Antonio and Lovino decide to keep warm together on Christmas and enjoy the gifts from each other and a very thoughtful Santa Claus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The speakers on their bookshelf emitted soft music, a chorus of voices singing “Silent Night.” A fire was burning, and there were candles set out because the actual lights had been turned off in a successful attempt to romanticize the evening. There was food in the oven—a turkey, potatoes, pasta on the stove—and the entire house smelled like a feast. Not to mention the Christmas tree set up in front of the windows, decorated with bulbs and lights and with brightly wrapped presents sitting underneath.  
Dressed in a red and green sweater decorated with reindeer and a pair of dark blue jeans, Lovino Vargas walked into the living room and froze the moment he saw the gifts. A red tinge came into his lightly tanned cheeks and quickly overtook his face.  
“ _Antonio!_ ” he shouted, his anger easily entering his voice as he whirled around and stormed out of the living room, having completely forgotten why he’d gone there in the first place.  
“ _Sí, mi pequeño tomate dulce?_ ” came the response, sang in happy tones as if Antonio hadn’t picked up on Lovino’s anger. The Italian followed the voice and found his Spanish lover in their bedroom upstairs, running a comb through his hair and only partially dressed after a shower.  
“What the fuck are all those presents doing under the tree?” he demanded, stopping just inside the doorway and pointing back the way he’d come.  
Green eyes looked at him from the mirror’s reflection. “ _¿Qué?_ What do you mean, Lovi?”  
“I _mean_ that I didn’t put all those there and I told you not to get me anything for Christmas!”  
“But, Lovi, why wouldn’t I get you any presents?” Finished combing his hair, Spain turned around and loosely crossed his arms over his chest, pouting slightly. “I would feel bad if you didn’t get to open presents with me in the morning. Christmas should be fun for both of us.”  
Romano’s face was starting to turn red. Why couldn’t this idiot just understand? “I’m not opening them. I don’t want them.” He turned on his heel to leave before he could see the Spaniard’s crestfallen look and left the room, only to have Antonio run after him and catch him around the waist. Tan arms pulled him back against the other male and lifted him off his feet as the tanned brunet hugged him.  
“H-hey! Let go, _bastardo!_ ” he shouted, struggling against him, feet kicking as they tried to reach the ground.  
“Not until you promise to open the presents I got for you!” Spain sang, as happy as ever.  
Lovino wished he could say it was annoying. He wanted to tell Antonio to shut up before he went deaf, but if there was one thing about the Spaniard he would never dare insult, it was his voice. Spain’s voice was beautiful and it never failed to calm him down, make him smile. Especially when the older nation was acting like an idiot, like now.  
“Come on, Roma~”  
Ugh.  
Sulking, Lovino gave a curt nod. “Fine. I’ll open the damn presents.”  
“In the morning with me, _si?_ ”  
“ _Si, si,_ now put me down, tomato bastard. You’re rumpling my clothes.”  
“I know,” the Spaniard purred, his face nuzzling into the back of Lovino’s neck.  
“Chigi!” Romano bent forward then slammed back, knocking hard against Spain’s forehead. The older nation dropped him immediately, both hands flying to his injury as tears filled his green eyes. Meanwhile, Lovi easily landed on his feet and began walking away with a huff. “That’s what you get, bastard.”  
“Awwww Roma, why would you be so cruel? And on Christmas Eve?”  
“You rumpled my sweater.”

Two pairs of bleary eyes watched the fire burn. The music still played and the tree with its presents was pristine. But it was late now, almost midnight. Empty plates and wine glasses sat on the coffee table, all that remained of the nations’ Christmas dinner.  
Cuddled together under a thick blanket with full bellies, Antonio and Lovino sat in silence. It was rare that they did this sort of thing, since a certain Italian wasn’t usually in the mood for “cutesy couple-y shit.” But on Christmas Eve he was content to eat as much as he could then curl up with Spain and try to stay up late enough to see Finland stop by as Santa Claus.  
They had yet to succeed. Even now, Lovino could feel his eyelids beginning to droop.  
“Tonio,” he murmured, chin dropping towards his collarbone.  
“Mm…” The Spaniard shifted just slightly and pulled the younger male closer to himself.  
“Tired.”  
“Then sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”  
It was the sort of thing Lovino loved to hear but always rolled his eyes at. Now, his only reaction was to hum and snuggle a little farther into Spain’s side, the blanket pulled close around his narrow frame as sleep claimed him.

“Roma! Roma!”  
Hands shaking him forced Lovino out of the dream he’d been having—his brother had been lounging in a bowl of pasta and kept asking to borrow some tomatoes for his sauce—and into the waking world. The moment he was awake he was scowling, pulling the blanket over his head and shoving away the brown-haired bastard who’d woken him.  
“It’s too fucking early, Spain.”  
“But Lovi! It’s Christmas! Finland came!”  
God, he didn’t care if Finland left them a fucking bull to keep as a pet! It was too god damn early to be awake!  
“No.” Twisting, the Italian shoved his face into the couch and proceeded to cram as much of his body into the space between couch back and cushions as he could. It was warm and plush and comfortable and within moments he was on the verge of being asleep once more.  
Music suddenly blasted through the room and Lovino muttered a curse at his Spanish lover. No doubt this was Antonio’s next tactic for getting him up—deafen him with Christmas music.  
 _Fucking idiot._  
But no matter how deep between the cushions he shoved his head and no matter how hard he concentrated to block out the noise, it was too late. No way was he going to fall back asleep with that shit drilling into his eardrums. So he heaved a sigh and pushed himself into a sitting position, not caring that his clothes were completely disheveled and that his hair was a disaster. No one looked good first thing Christmas morning.  
“Fine! I’m up! Fuck!” he shouted over the music, and Spain cheered before turning the stereo down to a more tolerable level. The noise that had been threatening to give him a migraine became a pleasant murmur in the background.  
“ _Feliz Navidad,_ Romano!”  
 _I hate this holiday._  
Antonio was already sorting the presents into three groups.  
“Come on, Lovi!” The older nation was practically bouncing in place, sitting on the floor between two of the piles; he’d made a spot for Lovino as well. “It’s time to open _los regalos!_ ”  
“Yeah, yeah.” Keeping the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Lovino moved from the couch to the floor and settled in the spot Antonio had made for him.  
Spain pointed to a pile, the one on Lovino’s left. “Those are from Finland. These,” the pile on the Spaniard’s left, “are my gifts to you, and the last one is your gifts to me.”  
Lovino’s gaze went to the last bunch. His gifts to the other nation were smaller than the others, and the wrapping job was downright shitty. Just looking at them made him feel embarrassed and uncomfortable. They wouldn’t be good enough for the brunet sitting a foot away. He shouldn’t even have tried to get Antonio anything. He wouldn’t like them. They were trash.  
“Here you go, _mi amante._ ”  
It was almost painful how happy Antonio looked as he held out the first present. He’d probably found the perfect gifts for his moody lover and then Lovino’s were going to look even worse by comparison.  
“ _Grazie,_ ” he muttered, accepting the brightly wrapped box and handing Spain one in return. The sound of tearing paper filled the room as the two opened their presents, Antonio much more eager than Lovino was.  
 _Oh, wow…_  
They were candle holders, silver, bright and polished. Old, judging by the design, but beautiful. Some master craftsman had spent hours and hours on these, and Spain was giving them to him for Christmas—they’d probably been locked away somewhere for years, collecting dust, to keep them from getting damaged. Romano had a terrible record for breaking things. Why was Spain giving him something so valuable?  
“I… _grazie_ ,” the younger nation murmured, letting his fingers brush against the cold silver. For the moment, he forgot to be moody and angry that the other had given him anything, though to be fair, his exact words had been “don’t get me anything for Christmas.” If these candle holders were as old as they looked, Spain hadn’t gotten them anywhere but out of storage. It was a dumb loophole but suddenly Lovino didn’t feel like arguing. Not while he was holding something so beautiful.  
But there hadn’t been any sort of reaction from Antonio yet and that worried him. Was his present really that terrible, the older nation had been left speechless? He was too afraid to look at his expression, too convinced it would be angry or disdainful or disgusted.  
 _Just look. Do it. It can’t be that bad._  
His neck should have been creaking with how difficult it was just to lift his head.  
“What the hell?” He couldn’t believe it—the bastard hadn’t even opened his gift yet!  
“I wanted to see your reaction,” the older brunet explained upon seeing his companion’s bewildered look. “Do you like them?”  
It took a moment for Lovino to be able to nod. “ _Si…_ ”  
Smile growing, Antonio gave a happy nod and finished tearing the paper off his box, then pulled off the tape. A rectangular mass of tissue paper slid out to land in his lap, and he set the box aside in order to carefully pull the tissue away. It was a book, about an inch thick and bound in leather with a strap holding it closed, a simple yet elegant silver clasp on the front. Almost reverently, Spain ran his fingertips over the cover and couldn’t help but be amazed at how soft it was. He was careful when he opened the clasp, careful as he lifted the cover. On the first page, his full name was written in beautiful calligraphy—the rest of the pages were blank. They were crisp and clean, neatly lined and ready to be filled with whatever thoughts he desired to put down.  
“ _Muchas gracias,_ Roma,” he murmured, green eyes locked on the journal. “ _Es hermoso._ ”  
He didn’t speak Spanish but Lovino still knew what the other nation had said, and it made his cheeks grow warm. It was just a journal—he didn’t know why Antonio was staring at it like it was some sort of masterpiece.  
“Here,” he said gruffly, thrusting the next present into the Spaniard’s hands, though he didn’t miss the way Antonio protected the journal, cradling it to his chest and then ever so carefully setting it aside to hand Lovino a box as well.  
The Italian was much more careful opening this present than he’d been with the first. If Spain was giving him things like those candle holders then he didn’t want to break anything on accident. But he needn’t have worried—this gift was a rather large bottle of some type of lotion. There was a sun on the front, though it wasn’t tanning lotion and it only took a quick skim over the instructions for the smaller brunet to understand.  
“You got me massage oil?” _That warms up the longer you rub? What the hell?_  
Antonio chuckled. “You like having your back rubbed, _si?_ This will make it even better.”  
Oh. Well, yeah, okay. It made sense when the tomato bastard said it like that. Come to think of it, sleeping on the couch had made his spine a little stiff. “…can we try it later?” he asked almost timidly and was rewarded with a wide smile.  
“Of course!” And then he was focused on opening his second present, tearing through the paper in what closely resembled a frenzy to see what else his precious Roma had gotten him for Christmas. This box was much smaller than the first but he let out a pleased sound when he finally saw what was inside. “They’re perfect!”  
Romano’s face turned red and he looked away. “Shut up, bastard. They’re just cufflinks.” But he was pleased by his lover’s reaction. He’d spent hours looking for the right set, something noticeable but not gaudy that would go with the Spaniard’s sense of style when it came to his suits. They were simple emeralds, not embellished or decorated, but the older nation obviously liked them.  
“Look, Lovi! They match!” Antonio was grinning, holding the cufflinks up next to his face to show that the stones were almost the exact color of his eyes.  
He’d done that on purpose but he had no intentions of admitting that—no way would Lovino ever admit that he’d been so sappy about choosing a gift.  
Setting the cufflinks aside as carefully as he’d done the journal, Spain picked up his last gift for the Italian sitting across from him and held it out. “ _Aquí tiene!_ ”  
The box was so heavy that he almost dropped it out of surprise, but luckily he managed to keep a grip on it and settled it comfortably on his lap before passing his final present to Antonio. This time, the older nation didn’t wait before opening it and within moments was tossing tissue paper in every direction. “Pajama pants! Ah! They’re soft!” Grinning, he held up the pants and shook them out, rubbing his thumbs against the fabric and marveling in the silky texture. Then his grin began to fade and he looked at Romano curiously. “Is there supposed to be a top?”  
If his face had been red before, it was nothing compared to the color of Lovino’s cheeks now. Yes, there was a top to match the pajama pants in Antonio’s hands, but he hadn’t put it in the box. His embarrassment made him look away. “Uh… _si_ …”  
“Lovi? Is something wrong?” There was concern in the Spaniard’s tone now and he set the pants down so he could focus more on the younger nation.  
“ _Nessun,_ ” he muttered, then swallowed thickly as he summoned up his courage. “I have the top.”  
Green eyes blinked at him for a few moments before Antonio smiled. “So we will match, _si?_ ”  
“ _S-si…_ ”  
Ugh this was stupid. He should have just given the bastard the whole set. What was he trying to do, be romantic? As if Lovino Vargas could ever be romantic. At best he was less insulting than usual.  
To his surprise, a pair of hands took hold of his upper arms and effortlessly pulled him across the small space until he was all but sitting in Spain’s lap and the older brunet was hugging him tightly.  
“What are you doing, idiot?” the Italian demanded, his face pressed into Antonio’s shoulder. It wasn’t unpleasant but he’d been surprised by the action and he wasn’t exactly fond of surprises.  
“Hugging you. What does it look like?” As playful as the words were, Spain’s voice was thick with some emotion that Lovino didn’t understand and didn’t want to try to figure out.  
“I’m not stupid! Bastard,” he muttered the last word with no bite to it, trying to shift closer to the older brunet without him noticing. It didn’t work, and the next moment Antonio had shifted his grip on the smaller male to move Lovino entirely into his lap so he could cradle the Italian against his chest.  
“ _Gracias,_ Lovi,” he murmured, face buried in the younger nation’s brown hair. “ _Que significa mucho para mí._ ”  
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Lovino reminded his lover, and Spain let out a quiet chuckle.  
“Just saying thank you.” He didn’t let go of the smaller male even though Lovino still had to open his last present, and Finland’s gifts to them were waiting as well. If he had his way, he’d never let go of his Roma, especially not after receiving such a gift. The pajama pants themselves weren’t what made him so emotional— though they were nice, and he would definitely use them—it was the fact that Lovino had kept the top to wear. The fact that, despite acting angry all the time and insulting Antonio and denying that he loved him, the surly Italian had purposefully bought pajamas for them to wear _together_ …it was the clearest “I love you” he’d ever gotten from the smaller nation without having to coax it out of him.  
Lovino let this quiet cuddling go on for a few more minutes before he gently poked Antonio in the ribs. “I still have to open your last present, idiot.” He was still holding onto it, the box trapped between their bodies because he hadn’t dropped it when the larger male initially pulled him closer.  
Silent, Antonio shifted his lover once more so that Lovino’s back was to his chest, the little brunet still seated in his lap. “Open it.”  
Rolling his eyes at the sentimental turn this had taken, Romano tore open the wrapping paper and inspected the contents of the box. “Scented candles?”  
“ _Si,_ for the candleholders.” Antonio’s chin rested on his lover’s shoulder.  
He hadn’t expected candles but he supposed it made sense, and he couldn’t help but smile a little as he realized the scents Spain had chosen: “Spanish Garden,” “Mediterranean Breeze” and “Italian Mandarin.” They would be the perfect scents to enjoy during a bath.  
 _This bastard knows me too well._  
“ _Grazie, Spagna,_ ” he murmured, holding the box to his chest as he leaned back against the larger male comfortably.  
“ _De nada._ Shall we open the gifts from Finland?”  
Romano answered with a nod and set the candles aside so he could move the three new presents closer. “One for you,” he handed the box over his shoulder, “one for me,” that one was set in his lap, “and one for both of us.” The last gift was left on the floor so they could open it together.  
The sound of paper being ripped drowned out the music still playing in the background as they opened their respective gifts.  
“Gardening gloves! _Perfecto!_ I needed a new pair!” Spain wasted no time in pulling them on over his hands and testing the feel as he moved his fingers.  
Lovino was looking into his box with an unreadable expression, face slowly turning redder and redder. His grip was tightening on the box, bending it under his fingertips.  
 _What the fuck kind of Christmas present is this? Finland…how did he…? Why…?_  
It was almost impossible to imagine that sweet little blond packing something like this, wrapping it up like a Christmas present and leaving it under their tree. No way was he letting Spain see this. Ever. The man would never give him any peace if he did and while there was a part of him that almost enjoyed that thought there wasn’t a chance in hell Romano would ever actually listen to that part.  
“Roma.”  
He jumped to hear his own name and quickly closed the box before curious green eyes could peer inside and see what his gift was. “What?”  
“Let me see what Finland gave you.”  
“Uh…it…it’s just…socks…”  
“Socks?”  
“ _Si…_ extra thick so my feet don’t get cold in winter…”  
Spain chuckled and nuzzled his cheek against the smaller male’s shoulder. “You’re a terrible liar, Lovi.”  
“Fuck you,” was the only response he could think of before the box was snatched out of his hands and then opened by the man who’s lap he was sitting in. “Bastard! Give it back!”  
“This doesn’t look like socks, Lovi.”  
That settled it. His face had never been redder than this in his entire life. His cheeks were burning, as was his neck—his entire body felt much too warm and his heart was starting to pound in his narrow chest because he knew what came next, knew that his lover would make a comment and that in turn would make him blush even more.  
“All right, last one!”  
What?  
Incredulous, Romano watched as the larger male reached past him and picked up the final unopened gift. It was labeled to the both of them from Santa Claus and Spain set it on Lovino’s lap in a clear indication that he was to be the one to open it. He wasn’t entirely sure that was a good idea, not after what Finland had given him for his gift. Spain’s had been innocent enough but anything could be in that box.  
A gentle nudge to his shoulder made him glance back at the older nation. “Are you going to open it?” Antonio asked, arms once more wrapped comfortably around the Italian’s middle.  
 _I don’t want to. It might be something dirty._  
But he couldn’t say that because then the tomato bastard would tease him about being shy or some shit and he really wasn’t in the mood for that right now. So he remained silent and slowly began opening the present. His fingers carefully pulled at the paper, breaking the tape free and sliding the box away from the mess. There was red and green tissue paper inside, hiding whatever the actual gift was, and Lovino felt his nerves building as he began taking it out. Antonio’s chin was resting on his shoulder again so he could see and Lovino knew what the man’s reaction was when he took Finland’s gift to them out of the box.  
“Well.”  
 _Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit._  
It had been comfortable to sit in the Spaniard’s lap for the last several minutes. Antonio was warm and there was no denying that Lovino enjoyed being held by the older nation. But he could feel the heartbeat against his back starting to speed up and there was something pressing against his ass that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago that made him want to shift around uncomfortably—the only reason he didn’t was because he knew what would happen if he did anything to create friction.  
“Roma,” the name was purred as a cheek nuzzled his own.  
“Don’t even say it,” the younger nation snapped, shoving the older away. He knew where this was headed and didn’t want any part of it. Spain let out a whine and pulled him closer, purposefully rubbing in a very specific way.  
“But, Lovi, it’s Christmas.”  
“I fucking know that, bastard! So let me have a good Christmas by not pestering me for sex!” He didn’t have to look to know the green-eyed man was pouting.  
“I don’t want sex. I want to make love—and put Finland’s gifts to good use, of course.”  
 _Finland, I’m going to fucking murder your sled-riding ass._


	2. Chapter 2

They’d lit the candles. It was Lovino’s idea, of course, because Antonio had been on his best behavior all day. The Spaniard was so courteous of his moody lover it was almost annoying, but at the same time Lovino couldn’t help but enjoy it. Obviously, Antonio was hoping he’d get brownie points if he went an entire day without getting on the Italian’s nerves.  
As much as Lovino hated to admit it, it was working. He loved Antonio. He rarely said so, but he did, and this Christmas had been particularly wonderful. Aside from those last two gifts from Finland, of course, but those hadn’t been mentioned since they were opened. Antonio was taking the Italian’s request for a day free of anything sexual to heart, and it had been a great day. But now that the sun was going down and their bellies were full of delicious Christmas food, that they’d taken a warm bath together and everything smelled like those candles, Lovino was ready to call an end to his lover’s suffering.  
The Spaniard was busy draining the tub, had insisted he be the one to do it and told Lovi to get ready for bed so they could snuggle. Lovino, though, didn’t really want to snuggle. Not yet. So he was sitting on the bed, waiting, the top half of Antonio’s new pajamas securely buttoned around his torso. He’d left the top few buttons undone, though, and had one leg folded under himself as he waited—he wanted to give Antonio a hint of what was coming.  
“Give me a few moments, _si,_ Roma?” Antonio was distracted as he walked into the bedroom, a towel draped over his still-wet hair and part of his face so he didn’t see the Italian right away. The brown locks were almost black and especially curly; Lovino wanted to twist his fingers into it, but his attention was quickly drawn downward because the Spaniard wasn’t wearing a shirt. His abdomen, though muscular, was slightly distended from the amount of food he’d eaten, much the same way Lovino’s was. And then further, his new pajama pants rode low on his hips, teasingly showing off the sharp contours of the bones and the muscles that almost seemed to point to between his legs.  
 _Sexy bastard._  
“Tonio,” Lovino purred, doing his absolute best to give the other male bedroom eyes. It wasn’t often that he played this role, so he was self-conscious about it, but he was determined. Antonio had been spoiling him all day. Now was the time to reward him.  
“Hm?” Green eyes turned to him; Antonio froze, blinking. “Lovi?”  
“ _Si?_ ” he replied, innocent now. His hands were braced on the bed and he leaned back slightly, making the fabric of the shirt slide up to show a little more of his thighs, though he was careful not to show too much. He didn’t want to ruin the surprise.  
Antonio swallowed visibly, his Adam’s apple shifting as his gaze followed the movement of the shirt. “ _¿Significa esto que quieres hacer el amor ahora?_ ” His tone was hopeful but low, almost husky, and Lovino felt himself grow warm.  
“ _Fare lamour?_ ” the slimmer male repeated in his own tongue musingly. “Mmm… _si._ ” A grin broke out over Antonio’s face and the Spaniard moved towards the bed, only to stop when Lovino held up a hand, palm flat and fingers pointed up. “ _Primi…massaggio._ ” He gestured to where he’d purposefully set the bottle of warming massage oil Antonio had given him out on the nightstand, right next to one of the candles.  
Nodding, Antonio adjusted his angle and headed for the nightstand instead. As soon as he touched the bottle of oil, Lovino slid farther onto the bed and lay down, arms stretched out over his head and knees drawn up at different angles to keep himself just barely concealed. The sight of him made Antonio sigh with unrestricted wanting, though he kept his movements slow as he climbed onto the bed and knelt beside his lover.  
“ _Lleno de sorpresas, _” he murmured, gaze locked on the smaller brunet as he popped the cap on the bottle. The sound made Lovino take a deeper breath than before, his narrow chest rising under the pajama shirt. “Gonna have to take this off, Lovi.” Smiling slightly, Antonio tugged at the bottom hem of the pajama shirt.  
Lovino tucked his chin to his collarbone, looking up at his lover through his eyelashes. “You do it.”  
The tone he used almost made Antonio drop the bottle of oil, and the Spaniard nodded slowly as he set it aside. Bracing his palms against the bed to either side of Lovino, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on the Italian’s neck.  
“Antonio,” his name sounded as a quiet gasp, making him grin. It was tempting, having that smooth neck right in front of him, all his to lick and nibble and suck as much as he wanted, but his Lovi wanted a massage before they made love, and he wasn’t about to ruin his hard work by upsetting the hazel-eyed brunet now. So he allowed himself only one more small kiss before moving down, using his teeth to pull the fabric and buttons apart.  
“ _Dio…_ ”  
He could feel Lovino’s eyes on him, knew the Italian was watching and could tell by the way his breathing sped up that he liked what he saw. This was one of Antonio’s favorite tricks, one he’d used countless times but never enjoyed so much as he did when it was Lovino he was using it on.  
 _What is…?_  
There was something under the pajama shirt, and he had a strong suspicion of what, but he didn’t stop to take a look. Chances were, he was supposed to remove the shirt before he got to see what else Lovino was wearing, so he continued as if he hadn’t noticed the shimmering white material.  
Finally, he pulled the last button free and sat up again, gaze slowly moving up the body stretched out beneath him. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful, even with the loose shirt hanging around him and that teasing treat underneath. His eyes eventually met Lovino’s and he smiled to see how flushed the Italian was.  
“You okay?” he asked quietly, moving up to nuzzle his lover’s cheek.  
“ _Si…_ just hurry up, bastard…”  
An insult with no bite that made Antonio chuckle, and he nodded, sitting up again. With gentle hands, he pulled the pajama shirt up and away, tugging until he could toss the garment onto the floor. Just as he suspected, Lovino was also wearing his gift from Finland.  
“Told you it wasn’t socks,” the older nation teased, earning a muttered curse from the other. “You look _perfecto,_ Lovi.” He wasn’t exaggerating even a little bit when he said it. As ornery as Lovino usually was, the Italian was cute, and he could be the sexiest thing in the world when he wanted to be, especially when he was tormenting the Spaniard. But this, this was something he hadn’t seen yet. Finland had definitely known what he was doing with a gift like this.  
“S-stop staring, _idiota,_ ” Lovino muttered, looking away as embarrassment turned him shy. Those damn green eyes were looking at him so intently he thought they might strip away the cloth by sheer power of will.  
Antonio cracked a grin. “ _Lo siento._ ”  
Still embarrassed, the younger nation squirmed. “Do you really like it?” The question was quiet and unsure.  
“ _Si,_ very much. Finland has good taste.” Lifting one hand, the Spaniard gently stroked the fabric that only barely concealed his lover’s body. It felt like silk, was trimmed with lace and shimmered in the soft light of the candles, sheer enough that he could just barely see the body underneath. “Is that a thong?”  
“Uh…sorta.”  
Lovino’s face was so red that Antonio was tempted to call him a tomato, as he always did when the Italian blushed. But he was too distracted by what was underneath the night-dress style lingerie. It certainly looked like a thong, at least from this angle, but there was a lace strap going around each thigh and he wasn’t sure what the purpose of them was, though they did look pretty sexy. White was a great color against Lovi’s olive tone skin.  
“Can I look?” he asked, innocently enough, but Lovino flushed darker anyway.  
“Uh…not yet…massage first…”  
A fond smile appeared on the Spaniard’s face. “ _Por supuesto, mi amante._ ”  
God damn it, did the bastard really have to keep talking in Spanish like that? It was making Lovino feel all sorts of warm and tingly and he was a few purred words away from skipping the massage entirely just so he could finally have Antonio the way he really wanted him.  
Silent, he watched the older nation pick up the bottle of oil once more. His movements were graceful, unhurried. He was prepared to take all the time in the world to do this. It was impossible not to watch him pop the cap then pour the contents into his palm, an opaque, golden liquid that made suggestively wet noises when Spain set the bottle down and rubbed his hands together.  
“It’s already getting warm,” Antonio purred, green eyes darkening as he looked at his expectant lover; Lovino gulped but forced himself to stay relaxed, biting his tongue when the Spaniard straddled him.  
Inch by inch, those slicked hands made their way under his top, fingertips brushing against his skin and leaving trails of fire. Antonio was right—the oil didn’t take long to warm up. Heart pounding, he resisted the urge to arch into that touch, though he couldn’t help the shiver that hit him when Spain’s hands flattened against his shoulders, almost seeming to press the heat of the oil into his body.  
“ _S-Spagna…_ ”  
“Hm?”  
Lovino’s cheeks flushed red as he met the older nation’s gaze. “ _Bésame,_ ” he breathed, and Antonio’s reactions flashed across his face. Surprise that his lover had spoken in Spanish. Joy. He wanted to hug the younger nation, tell him how cute he was. Then the full brunt of it hit him—arousal. It was easy to tell. They’d both been willing from the start but now the Spaniard looked downright hungry, and Lovino could easily feel that he was hard. Their hips were pressed together, after all.  
Despite the fact that his gaze alone might have devoured the Italian, Antonio purposefully took his time in fulfilling his lover’s request. He kissed Lovino’s forehead, his nose, one eyelid then the other and along the edge of his jaw only to pause at the corner of his mouth, breathe a warm caress against the younger male’s skin.  
“ _Non prendere in giro, bastardo,_ ” Lovino whined, though it was probably meant to be a growl or threat. It made Antonio chuckle, and then he took pity on the man lying beneath him.  
Gently, he slid his mouth over the other nation’s and shaped it to fit his own. To his surprise, Lovino opened up to him without waiting for the Spaniard to ask, his tongue shyly slipping out to taste lips. The contact had Antonio eagerly following the younger’s lead, and soon he was exploring every corner of Lovino’s mouth. He swallowed the soft moan his lover produced as his hands slid down, leaving twin streaks of oil behind. Then back up, rubbing against the ever-warming liquid so that it absorbed into the Italian’s skin, over the entirety of his chest and stomach, his shoulders. He could feel the smaller man’s chest straining and broke the kiss, only pulling far enough away that they could breathe, a thin string of saliva connecting their mouths.  
Lovino’s eyes were unfocused, hazy as he looked up at the Spaniard through his eyelashes; his tongue poked out, swiping at the spit on his lip. It was a sexy thing to watch, and Antonio reluctantly sat up straighter so he could retrieve the oil and pour more onto his hands. When he leaned down again, he dodged the Italian’s lips and instead began kissing his throat as his hands skillfully worked the oil into the skin of Lovino’s arms. Damn, he was soft, almost delicate, and he smelled amazing after their bath, and the oil’s scent mixed perfectly with that of the candles. He’d chosen it on purpose—“Midnight Heat” had sounded too good to resist.  
As soon as he finished with Lovi’s arms, Spain shifted his knees back, hands gripping the younger nation’s, their fingers intertwined, and let some of his weight rest against the Italian. “Lovi,” he sighed, teeth scraping over the younger nation’s throat and making him shiver. Their bodies were flush against each other now, so there was no mistaking that they were both deeply aroused. But Lovino wasn’t ready to give in just yet, so he gently bumped his head against the older nation’s.  
“ _Lei non è ancora finite,_ ” he said sternly when Antonio looked up at him; a grin spread over the Spaniard’s features.  
“ _Lo siento._ ” Sitting up yet again, Antonio moved to kneel beside his lover and poured more oil into his hands. With deliberate strokes and squeezes and well-placed rubs of his thumbs, he spread the golden liquid over Lovino’s legs, making sure to slip his fingers under the lace bands of the sort-of-thong the Italian was wearing. Only when there wasn’t a single bit of skin left to oil did he slide his hands up to hold the smaller male’s hips and lean down to whisper in his ear. “Can we now?”  
“ _Nessun._ ” Lovino’s tone was coy even as Antonio gave him a pleading look. “You’re only half way there, idiot.” Much more gently than he normally would have done, he pushed the Spaniard away and turned onto his stomach, stretching before he settled comfortably, cheek resting on his hands.  
Antonio couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d known Finland’s gift was of the sex-inducing variety—their joint gift was, too—but he hadn’t expected _this._ Not for this sort-of-thong to leave Lovino’s ass completely bare to world. He’d thought there would be a string or strap, but no, the lace bands around his thighs were what held the fabric in place. There was absolutely nothing to even slow him down should he choose to make Lovino his.  
Tempting, tempting, but he held himself back. Lovino expected him to complete the massage, and he was still on his best behavior to please the moody nation. This being the case, he chose to push the fabric of Lovino’s top up so he could pour the oil directly onto his lower back, watching it pool in the dip just before the curve of that perfect Italian ass. Only when it threatened to spill over and drip onto the blankets did he stop and set the bottle aside. For sure, this would be the last time he would need it; there was enough oil on Lovino’s back to cover what remained of his olive-toned skin.  
A sigh escaped him the moment he felt those large, calloused hands touch his skin. Every touch felt amazing. If he hadn’t been so relaxed, he’d have been squirming by now.  
As it was, he settled for arching when Spain’s hands ran up his back, frictionless due to the oil. The heat was _delicious_ —there was no other word for it. His stomach had already been tight, but now that he was so exposed to the older nation, he felt the familiar nervous-excitement course through him. It made him want to lift his hips off the bed, spread his legs and tell Antonio to forget the massage. Doing so would have been easy and he knew the older nation wouldn’t hesitate to comply.  
But damn the bastard was good with his hands. They were just a little calloused, smooth from the oil, so warm as they applied just the right amount of pressure to his muscles. A press in just the right spot dragged a quiet groan from him.  
“You have knots, Lovi.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Spain’s hands all but attacked the tensest parts of Lovino’s back. One by one, the knots were worked out until the Italian was limp beneath his Spanish lover.  
“ _Dio, Spagna_ …hurry up…”  
He couldn’t take this much longer. The massage had been his idea and there was no hiding how much he was enjoying it, but he still couldn’t help the anticipation that made him grip the blankets when those hands moved down again. Into the oil, over his hips and lower to his legs. One then the other, with just as much attention paid to his thighs as before.  
 _Open up for me,_ those fingers seemed to say. _Let me love you._  
 _Touch me where we both know I want it._  
Of course he knew Antonio couldn’t read his mind—the bastard would be intolerable if he heard all the things Lovino would never dare to say out loud. Still, he sort of hoped the older nation might pick up on what he was thinking. There was only one other place for the oil to go, and there was more than enough of it left on his back. This only had to last another minute or two.  
And yet, the older nation was slow to touch the oil again, took his time in rubbing it over his palms. Lovino could feel that green-eyed gaze on his back, knew Antonio was waiting for something. It annoyed him but he refused to ask what the hell the bastard was waiting for. That was probably what the Spaniard wanted.  
Suddenly, the presence behind him was much closer—he could feel the older male’s body heat though they weren’t touching and breath caressed his ear, almost tickling. Lovino tensed, surprised, only to relax when lips ghosted against the side of his neck.  
“Almost done, Lovi,” Antonio purred. “Can I keep going?”  
 _I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t._  
With a slight nod, the Italian kept his expression neutral. “ _Si._ ”  
“ _Gracias._ ”  
Kisses were trailed down his back, stopping just before the leftover oil. Hands cupped his hips, thumbs stroking in that same gentle way that Antonio always touched him. Gradually, those hands shifted up until they were placed firmly on the younger brunet’s ass, shifting and rubbing to spread the oil. The process took only a few minutes, though it felt like much longer. Little sparks of arousal made Lovino want to squirm, had him biting his lip—why couldn’t the tomato bastard get on with it?!  
“You’re trembling, Roma.”  
 _I fucking know!_  
He didn’t deign to reply, merely shifted against the bed and bit his tongue. If Antonio wanted to play this game then Lovino meant to outdo him. Sex was enjoyable, he wanted to make love with his Spaniard and fall asleep together, and he knew Antonio wanted that, too, but now they were playing this game. Either he was going to give in and ask for Antonio, or Antonio would lose his patience and move on to what they both wanted. Lovino rarely gave in, and he certainly wasn’t about to after the sort of day he’d had.  
Minutes passed. It was silent as both nations waited for the other to surrender; the warmth from the oil started to fade ever so slowly. Eventually, Lovino felt the hands on his ass shift and mentally congratulated himself for outlasting the Spaniard. Their competition wasn’t exactly fair, since Lovino was much more used to ignoring his body’s sexual desires than Antonio was, but the older nation had known that from the start. Still, he was relieved that they were finally moving on.  
“ _Mi pequeña Roma lindo~_ ” Antonio purred, leaning down to kiss one perfect cheek then the other as he gently spread them apart.  
“H-hey, what are you doing, bastard?” Frowning, Lovino pushed himself up a little to try to look back over his shoulder. A mischievous grin was the only response he got before Spain leaned down and—  
“ _Chigi!_ What the hell do you think you’re doing, _bastardo?!_ ” the Italian shouted, shoving against the bed. He would have crawled away but Antonio had a hold of his hips, so he wasn’t going anywhere. “D-don’t do that! It’s dirty!”  
With a quiet chuckle, Antonio relented and took his mouth away from his startled lover’s entrance. “ _Lo siento, lo siento._ I merely wished to try it.”  
His face redder than any tomato ever grown, Lovino tried to calm his breathing. Jesus motherfucking Christ, he’d never expected Antonio to do anything like _that_ to him. They never had before, hadn’t talked about it…it was completely out of the blue.  
“The fuck is wrong with you?” he growled. “Damn lucky if I’ll let you touch me after that.”  
“Awww, but Lovi!” His usual smile in place, Antonio wrapped his arms around the younger nation and pushed him down against the bed in a hug, nuzzling his face into the back of Lovino’s neck. “We’ve had such a good day—making love is the perfect way to end it!”  
Lovino rolled his eyes but didn’t struggle. “No fucking shit. Why do you think I wore this stupid lingerie thing? So we could make love. But then you had to go and do that.”  
“I said sorry!” The Spaniard’s tone was pleading, green eyes wide as he looked at Lovino. “Please! _Por favor!_ ”  
For a moment, the Italian merely stared back at him, expression unreadable. He could make Antonio suffer for this, but he’d already made the man behave himself all day, and the massage had been akin to torture. Just this once, he decided to cut him a little slack.  
“…fine. But no more weird shit, got it? Use the oil for lube and hurry the fuck up.”  
Clearly relieved that he hadn’t been kicked out of bed altogether, Antonio mumbled a few thank you’s before using three of his fingers to gather up what remained of the oil. He slicked it over the digits, smiling at how it immediately began to warm up again, then stroked Lovino’s hip with his other hand.  
“ _Abre las piernas para mí, amante,_ ” he encouraged, tone low to match the dim lighting. Lovino snorted in annoyance.  
“ _Io non parlo spagnolo, idiota,_ ” the younger nation mocked. As soon as he said it, Antonio was right over him again, the green-eyed man’s mouth just by his ear.  
“Spread your legs, lover, so I can stretch you wide enough to take me to the hilt.” This time it was a growl, and Lovino felt a shudder race down his spine.  
God, he fucking loved it when Spain used that voice.  
With a shaky nod, the Italian did as he was told, even drawing his knees up slightly to give his lover a better angle. And what a sight to behold. Antonio was sure he could spend the rest of his life looking at nothing but Lovino, even if the younger male wasn’t dressed up and horny. His Lovi was beautiful no matter what. Getting to see him like this was just a bonus.  
Pleased beyond belief by his current situation, Antonio sat back on his heels and examined the backside presented to him. It was perfect, there was no doubt about that, and he let his oil-free hand caress one cheek, squeezing and rubbing gently until Lovino let out a soft whine. Only then did he use one slicked finger to locate and stroke the smaller male’s entrance, earning a gasp and shiver. Ever so gently, he pushed past the tight ring of muscle.  
“A-ah…Tonio…”  
The combination of the heat from the oil and how hot Lovino was inside was incredible; just imagining what that was going to feel like when he actually took the Italian was enough to make him moan with longing.  
Another finger had Lovino gripping the blankets and he didn’t bother trying to hold back a groan when the digits scissored apart. “Nng…Antonio…” With unfocused eyes he looked back at the older nation, mouth hanging open as he tried to breathe. “H-hurry up…”  
Hesitation made Antonio slow the movement of his fingers. “I don’t want to rush you.”  
If this dragged on much longer Lovino was going to murder someone. “You won’t.” He paused, stifling a moan when the invading digits twisted. “J-just…fuck… _please,_ Tonio…”  
Hearing Lovino say “please” was enough of a shock that Antonio actually froze completely for a moment before he nodded and carefully added his third and final slicked up finger. It was undeniably the shortest amount of time they’d ever spent on preparation, but that was all right, as long as his Lovi was okay.  
“Okay…okay,” the younger nation was completely out of breath, fingers digging into the blankets to feel those fingers spread apart and twist at the same time, “it’s enough…ah…”  
Still a little unsure about moving this quickly, Antonio was careful in removing his fingers and cleaning them off with a tissue from the box on the nightstand. What little oil was left on Lovino’s back was carefully wiped onto the Spaniard’s length.  
“ _Dios_ …Lovi, it feels amazing…”  
Warming massage oil was definitely an idea worth repeating.  
“ _Si,_ now come on.” Lovino smiled shyly as he looked back at his lover, his arousal clear in his eyes. “I want you.”  
As much as he wanted to grin and pull the Italian into a hug and tell him how very cute he was, Antonio knew all too well that doing so would make the smaller male shove him away and then all of this would have been for nothing. So he restrained himself, settled for a crooked half smile, and kissed Lovino’s back.  
“ _Y quiero que, por lo tanto,_ ” he murmured as he moved over the younger brunet, hands braced to either side of him. With a practiced ease, he positioned himself and began to press inside, dropping kisses on his lover’s shoulders as he did.  
“Ah…sh-shit…An…tonio…” Lovino’s shoulders hunched up to his ears, his back arching until he was on his knees and elbows. “It’s…hot…!”  
“ _S-si._ ” It was all he could manage to get out as a response. Being inside Lovino was bliss in itself but add the heat of the oil to that and Spain wasn’t sure if he was going to last more than a few thrusts. Damn, though, if he thought he could manage it, he’d want to shove Lovino’s shoulders back down to the mattress and take him until neither of them had the strength to move an inch. But they were supposed to be making love, and if he moved too quickly he was sure he’d cum too soon, so he buried his face in the crook of his lover’s neck and slowly began to move.  
Gasping, Lovino squeezed his eyes shut only for them to open wide a moment later when the pace picked up. The heat of Antonio’s uneven breaths against his neck combined with the waves of pleasure already flooding his senses made him tremble, on the verge of collapse. He wasn’t going to last long at this rate.  
“Oh, _Dio! Spagna! Altro!_ ” It was impossible to keep quiet once Antonio started to move deeper. The fact that the Spaniard hadn’t found his prostate yet made no difference whatsoever. Hips bucking to increase the speed and force of the larger male’s movements, Lovino scrabbled at the blankets in search of something to hold onto against the heat and smooth friction.  
“You’re…so tight…hah…” Every muscle was tense as the Spaniard tried to follow Lovino’s commands without losing himself too soon. Giving in would have been so easy, but he wasn’t cruel. He always made sure Lovi came first, and then he followed as quickly as he could. This time would be no different, even though he was almost in pain with how close his body already was to releasing.  
“S…S…Spain,” Lovino panted, eyes unfocused, hazy and bleary, drool making him lick his lips every few seconds, “I…I can’t…please…finish…” He could barely see, everything was so blurry and the edges of his vision were going dark as if he was about to pass out. Shudders continued to rack his body and he bucked without meaning to, making the breaths against his neck more ragged and labored. “ _Per favore!_ ”  
Too far gone in his own pleasure to resist, Antonio managed a jerky nod before he forced himself up, hands moving to grip Lovino’s shoulders. Just like he’d originally imagined, he pushed the smaller male’s shoulders to the bed and abandoned the pace he’d settled into. His movements became rough, uncontrolled, deeper than before; there would be bruises on Lovino’s shoulders and ass, but at the moment Spain didn’t care, and he knew he’d be snapped at if he held back now.  
“Nng…hah…hah…a-ah…Antonio…!”  
His name was just short of a scream and he knew he’d finally found his Italian lover’s prostate, instinctively adjusted his angle to aim for that spot so that he would hit it with almost every thrust. Lovino’s shouts dissolved into loud moans, groans that sounded oddly like begging. Antonio’s body raged at him to move faster, deeper, harder, anything it took to bring him his release. Never before had his stomach felt so tight so soon after starting, had his muscles trembled so violently; he was already sweating, the moisture making his hair stick to his forehead and dripping down his back.  
Suddenly, the warmth around his length tightened and he felt Lovino’s body convulse, a strangled scream ripping from the younger nation. The increased pressure forced him over the edge, turned his world a fiery white and had him calling out Lovino’s name, eyes squeezed shut against the surges of pleasure that made his hips slam forward without giving the Spaniard even a semblance of control.  
The world returned slowly, his entire body tingling with oversensitivity. His lungs ached from the effort of pulling in enough air, muscles shook just to keep him from collapsing on top of his exhausted lover. Weakly, he removed himself from Lovino’s body and let the Italian go, shifting to the side just enough that when he finally fell, it was to lie beside the smaller nation. “Lovi…”  
Out of breath and sweaty, Lovino struggled to lift himself enough to move, had to settle for crawling the few inches to where Spain lay so that he could nuzzle into the green-eyed brunet’s chest. Strong arms wrapped around him and held him close, comforting and stable after the break-neck sex. When he’d gotten dressed, he imagined making love, slow and patient and maybe a little lazy, but that…that was the farthest thing from making love they’d ever done.  
“ _Feliz…Feliz Navidad,_ Romano,” Antonio panted, face buried in the younger brunet’s hair as exhaustion fought to overtake him.  
Too tired and not uncomfortable enough in his dirtied lingerie to bother stripping or to complain, Lovino merely nestled closer to the larger male and let his thoughts drift in and out. Even though it hadn’t been what he’d had in mind, it had been fantastic. Quick, powerful, exhausting. Definitely something to do again, though maybe only on special occasions. And they hadn’t used their other gift from Finland—that was to be saved for another time. If they combined them, then, well, that would be a night to remember.  
Maybe he wouldn’t murder the gift-giving nation after all.__

__TRANSLATIONS:  
 _¿Significa esto que quieres hacer el amor ahora?_  
Spanish: Does this mean you want to make love now?  
 _Fare l’amour?_  
Italian: Make love?  
 _Primi…massaggio._  
Italian: First…massage.  
 _Lleno de sorpresas._  
Spanish: Full of surprises.  
 _Por supuesto, mi amante._  
Spanish: Of course, my lover.  
 _Bésame._  
Spanish: Kiss me.  
 _Non prendere in giro, bastardo._  
Italian: Don’t tease, bastard.  
 _Lei non è ancora finite._  
Italian: You’re not finished yet.  
 _Nessun._  
Italian: No.  
 _Mi pequeña Roma lindo~_  
Spanish: My cute little Roma~  
 _Abre las piernas para mí, amante._  
Spanish: Spread your legs for me, lover.  
 _Io non parlo spagnolo, idiota._  
Italian: I don’t speak Spanish, idiot.  
 _Y quiero que, por lo tanto._  
Spanish: And I want you, so much.  
 _Dio! Spagna! Altro!_  
Italian: God! Spain! More!  
 _Per favore!_  
Italian: Please!_ _


End file.
